Love Rhymes with Goldflight
by Notomys
Summary: Hamali has been haunted all of her life by a consistently impassive voice from her past. But now she’s given her burden a name and a face, and it looks an awful lot like a boy she used to know.
1. Chapter 1

I was almost 18 turns when I first met Rodya. Rodya and I would quickly become very good friends, and he would proceed to haunt me for the rest of my life. I suppose calling him a "good friend" trivializes what conspired between us. It can't be helped, anything more or less would merely be a hopeful delusion. He just wasn't that sort of person.

It all started in the common rooms of the candidate barracks, I was sitting with a few of my girlfriends gossiping something horrible when he walked into my life. We could all tell from the way he held himself that he was holdborn, me perhaps more than the others. Nearly two turns previously I had been in his position. The first moments a holdborn candidate spends in the Weyr are the strangest few moments of their lives. It's a completely different world. He was scared, dazed and confused, but far too proud to ask for any sort of assistance. He would be okay. None of us moved to help him. We just looked him over like a side of herdbeast and formed out own opinions of what sort of contributions he would make to the male population of our group.

It was love at first sight.

I only wish I would've known it then. I don't think it really would've made much of a difference, but I can't help wondering if our relationship would've been different if I had gotten up from the table and introduced myself. But I didn't. I just sat and glowered at him with three other girls whose names and significance I've long since forgotten. He looked right through us and found the entrance to the boy's barracks by himself.

We were in the same chore group. Chances are good that we never would've known each other if it wasn't for the random weekly shuffling of the groups. Fate however dictated that Rodya and myself would spend a certain morning mucking out the Weyr's stables. The first words we ever exchanged were elbow-deep in straw and shit, surrounded by drudges and runners. I'm not going to lie, and make it sound like the event had more significance than it did. Dragons didn't bugle in joy when our eyes locked and I noticed that he had the most gorgeous eyelashes I'd ever seen. But while our eyes didn't fill with glitter and hearts, we returned to the barracks that afternoon happier for knowing each other.

We learned a lot about each other that day. I found out that he grew up in Nerat Hold, and hated the taste of Khal. I told him about my childhood days at Katz Field, and how my mother was a journeyman of the weavercraft before she met my father. I asked him what he wanted to impress.

"I haven't really thought about that."

I was slightly taken aback by this. At that point, I had been a candidate of Igen Weyr for nearly two turns. The conversation of all candidates returns to the subject of newborn dragons. It becomes a habit that whenever the conversation begins to die, to bring up the ever-present question of what one thought was going to conspire on hatching day. I explained this to him, he shrugged and said that he had his own bad habits, he didn't need to pick up anymore. I insisted, "But c'mon. I mean, I was, am holdborn. Everybody has had dreams of riding a dragon at some point in their lives."

"Not me."

"Then why in Faranth's name are you here?"

He shrugged again. That was how he answered most questions. If you were really lucky you might get a few cryptic words. I never found anything out about Rodya by asking directly. Everything I ever knew about him was gleaned carefully from off-hand, casual conversation. The few things that I managed to gather I've horded. From time to time I bring them out of the depths of my mind. They help to remind me that he was real. I never really got a solid reason why he was at the Weyr. In time I was able to gather that he had been searched years before, but had refused because of an apprenticeship in the healercraft.

"Things came up. I had to leave."

"Do you have any idea how rarely that happens?"

"What?" 

"Being permitted to stand once you've refused an invitation."

"I can be good with my words when I want to be."

Part of me wishes that I had some scandalous stories of midnight trysts and forbidden romance. It would make this narrative more interesting and perhaps would've given me some closure. It would've been so easy. We could've easily snuck around the other candidates. It wasn't that we didn't talk about it, or that I wasn't attracted to him. Granted, most of the other girls swore that he was queerer than a wher at daytime. I knew better, they were just sore that he wouldn't fall to their charms and easy natures. He just wasn't that sort of person.

"I'll never let anybody change who I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"I'm Rodya. I am me."

"Yeah, and I'm Hamali."

"You don't know who you are though. That's the difference between me and you."

"I know who I am."

"No, I don't think you do. You define yourself by other people. I watch you."

"Creep."

" Weirdo. I'm always watching people, you know that."

I would smile because I knew it was true, and then I would sort of hate him for seeing the things I hated about myself and pointing the out in casual conversation. He would change the subject then, perhaps we would engage in our own sort of juicy gossip. Faranth, we had it all figured out. Within a few months of being a candidate he fell into the easy trap of, "let's talk about the eggs." We figured everything out. He was going to impress a green, that way all of those stupid girls would think he truly was homosexual and get off his back. I was going to impress a blue. I liked to be contrary at that time nothing would've pleased me more than causing a stir around the more hidebound of the Weyr. My blue was going to catch his green every time she flew. We would be all sorts of scandal. We thought we had all of our bases covered, if neither one of us impressed, we would run to the lower caverns breed as profusely as possible. We had it all figured out.

Almost every time I talked to him I was nearly compelled to grab him and shake him hard. I wanted to scream at him, "Stupid boy. I love you. We don't need to wait. Let's be now." I never did. I just went along with his jokes and told him that my hypothetical blue wouldn't have the strength to chase his hypothetical blue, he would be too busy traumatizing /real/ gay men but putting me in bed with them. I still don't know if our elaborate plans were anything other than a running inside joke to pass the time. I wish I did. There are a lot of things I wish I told him.

As it turned out, neither one of us impressed to that first clutch. Each and every dragon that emerged from its shell passed us. I remember exchanging glances with him. The girls and the boys stood on opposite ends of the hatching grounds. I don't know what made me look up at that moment, but that look. That look still haunts me. It was a half-hopeful smile, brief and fleeting. I didn't understand what it meant then, but I'm pretty sure I do now.

We didn't belong there.

Neither one of us had any family at the hatching feast. Rodya hadn't seen or spoken to his family in years. My family had too many other children to worry about. I was their oldest daughter, and they knew that I had a good head. We sat next to each other and poked at our food before deciding, "C'mon, everybody is busy with the feast."

"Where are we going."

"Out."

He took my hand and we found ourselves in the labyrinthine lower caverns with bottles of illegally begotten wine. We didn't talk much. We just sat in the dark next to each other and tried to figure out what each other's bodies were for. We never got really far, and we never spoke afterwards about what happened, but we did the same thing after every hatching.

Despite the fact that we broke curfew rules several times a sevenday to visit with each other after-hours, I never got so much as a sober kiss from him. People have told me that what we shared was vastly more sacred than any sort of body fluid. Hours of conversation, but conversation with Rodya left me nothing and everything. I was so grateful to be able to bask alone in his presence that I never once demanded more. Once again, I wish that I had something more interesting to tell about those two years. Save roughly biannual clumsy declarations of, "I bloody love you" nothing happened. He never held me desperately when we were sober. Unless it was prefaced with a hatching we never drank together. Sometimes though, when we would painfully disentangle ourselves from each other the next morning he would look at me in such a way that made me swear it was true. I didn't know anything for sure though.

Time has a funny way of moving. It doesn't pass in a smooth continual stream, but in sudden bursts. During one of our late-night chats we realized that our time was running out. He almost looked sad, "I feel old."

"You're younger than I am."

"Only by two turns."

"Rodya, I turn 22 next sevenday."

He gave me something like a smirk, "I'm only two turns behind you."

"What's going to happen?"

"You know this already."

"No, I don't. I'm not like you, I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. Being alone?"

"You're not alone."

"Yeah, but what…?"

"What?"

"What's going to happen."

"I said already, you know this."

"I don't."

He closed his eyes and slowly said, "I'm going to impress a green, you're going to get a little blue. If not, we'll have a lot of little Rodya's running about."

"You're ridiculous."

Shortly after this conversation She came into our lives. She changed everything. When there is another woman around, men may smile (even men like Rodya, who hate falling into conventions) and tell you that everything will be fine. That it's no big deal. You know differently though. She wasn't like the other girls. She emerged proudly into the world and made sure the entire Weyr knew what she looked like before smugly snatching me away from Rodya. The worse part is that I didn't care. At that moment the ecstasy and glee was more than Rodya had ever given me. He didn't even pass my mind as we embraced. Her name was Judeth, and she was mine forever.

I know what he did after the hatching. It haunts me still to think of it. I was whole and complete with Judeth at my side and hordes of congratulatory strangers. He went alone into the bowels of the Weyr to drown in something like sorrow. I didn't care.


	2. Chapter 2

Rodya congratulated me a few days later with dark smears under his bloodshot eyes, "Who would've thought Hamali the Goldrider?"

I gushed that she was perfect. That impression was everything that they told us. I stammered as I struggled for the right words. It was like I had been asleep all of my life and had suddenly awoken. Judeth and I, although only days together, were already synonymous. Our bond was so beautiful that it make me want to cry.

He said, "I suppose"

His voice had a certain lifeless quality I had only heard a few times before. I asked him what was wrong. He told me that he hadn't been sleeping well. He never slept well. I think mutual insomnia was one of the reasons why we got along so well. He asked me where Judeth was. She was asleep in the weyrling barracks. The dragonets would spend most of their first month asleep. It was strange. My life had been a whirlwind of activity since my impression. When I wasn't tending Judeth I was being paraded around the Weyr. I was the newest goldrider, everybody wanted to meet me. Yet in spite of all of this I had slept better than I ever had. I hadn't gotten used to having Judeth in my head. My body interpreted her need for sleep as my own. Rodya flatly said that he wished he could sleep. He would boil a firelizard egg if it meant he could have a good night's sleep.

I can remember touching his shoulder, telling him that nothing had changed. I was surprised at how his I could feel all of the bones through his thin shirt. He just smiled at me and waited patiently until I could remove my arm from his body. It took me a long time to let my arm drop to my side. He smiled, "You're being delusional," his words hurt, but I didn't know why. Perhaps he saw my face fall, because he added, "that's nothing new though."

"I'm just worried about you."

"I'm fine."

I wanted to tell him that he obviously wasn't. I think I realized then how little I knew about him. It hit me suddenly, almost like a reverse impression. When Judeth crawled out of her shell and declared herself in my head I knew all of her. It was like I had just read a hide that detailed her personality. I instantly knew almost everything there was to know about her, she became incorporated into my being. Despite spending the better part of five turns with Rodya, I knew nothing about him. I knew that he was hated to be defined, and that most of the thoughts that came out of mind were completely ridiculous, but those sort of things don't really count. I didn't know anything about the core of his person. I didn't feel him the way I felt Judeth. She couldn't hide any of herself from me. He smiled and looked right through me before feeding me what I wanted to hear, "I guess this means I'm going to have to become a bronzer. I suppose that will match my raging masculinity better than a green anyway."

After a few moments of laughing and joking the conversation grew serious. Did I honestly thing that he had a chance to impress to a bronze (and in the back of my mind live happily ever after)? I can't say for certain. I was not one of the so-called "golden girls" that clustered around any queen egg that happened over the sands. While I had not dismissed the possibility of impressing a flying eggsack it wasn't something I ever hoped for. Rodya was a sleeky and dark boy. He wasn't like any of the proud men that impressed the equally proud escorts of the queen. He was too subtle. Our conversation never exactly died, it just sort of meandered around without focus. We could've spent the rest of the night in delicate conversation about nothing, but I had to leave.

I couldn't deny Judeth. She needed me. Rodya would be okay.

We never exactly lost touch with each other. I would see him sometimes while running errands, or eating in the great hall. Once, maybe twice every few sevendays we would get together with each other for a more substantial amount of time and discuss life and love (although the possibility that our lives and loves were intertwined was never brought up directly) over dragonoil. Judeth would point out which spots of her hide itched and made occasional snarky comments about the things Rodya and I said.

-//That silly green Fidalgoth has more sense than you//-

I was happier than I had ever been in my life. I can't give an honest description of Rodya's emotions during this time. I hope I could say something with certainty.

After over five years of candidacy, I had a pretty accurate expectations of weyrlinghood. The only thing I hadn't predicted was the isolation. Hypothetically the only difference between the other members of my weyrling class and I were the private lessons I took four times a sevenday with the Weyrwoman. I gossiped about men and boys with the other girls at night in the barracks. I took my meals with the rest of the class. We wore the same simple shoulder knots, but Judeth set me apart from the other girls. Every time that I began to make what I would consider a real friend with one of my peers they would remember that I was a goldrider. Someday they would risk their lives to battle with thread. Someday I would manage the Weyr and make sure that embryos didn't stick to eggshells.

There were two other queens in the Weyr when Judeth was born. Another would be born before Judeth and I graduated from weyrlinghood. I came to realize that they were my true peers. They were the only people in the Weyr whom could truly appreciate the experience of being attached at the brain to a queen. Due largely to differences in age I was never particularly close with Weyrwoman, however the other queenriders: Jissy (and later Rellia) and I became very good friends. We were able to talk about things nobody else could, "Hey Jis, when you were a weyrling did your Armenth try to micromanage your class?"

"What do you mean?"

"I donno, push them to train, point out their flaws during drills."

She laughed and nodded, "Of course. I think every queen does. They need to learn how to be pushy snots at a young age. Judeth is growing well, she's already as big as the Weyrwoman's Kith."

"Indeed, although I doubt she'll get as big as Armenth. I swear, there is more of her to oil everyday."

We would talk for hours. Hide is too precious to waste on the pages and pages it would take to describe long afternoon chats about politics and bronzers. While I appreciated my chats with the other goldriders just as much as I did my chats with Rodya, they didn't leave me with the same empty feeling. Parting with Rodya always hurt in an indescribable place near the pit of my stomach. Parting with Jissy and Rellia was done without hesitation. I think it was because I knew that I would easily see them again soon. I never knew how much time would elapse between visits to Rodya. Going down to the candidate barracks was like going to another world. We would sit on the table in the candidate commons and for a few moments pretend that Judeth wasn't sleeping in my head and that everything was going to be okay.

I always talked a lot more than he did. I asked him about this once, and he told me not to worry about it. His responses to my long-winded questions were not short because he didn't like to talk with me. They were short because I liked talking much more than he did. It was always the same, "What've you been up to?"

"Nothing much. You?"

I would proceed to give him a blow-by-blow account of what I did that day. I would tell him exactly who I spent my time with, and what sort of things we talked about. He would merely watch me talk and let me know that he was listening by an occasional nod, or a snort of laughter. I never really knew what went on inside his head, the only difference now was that I didn't really know what he was doing with his life. I could only assume that his daily life hadn't changed much since we had shared chores and breakfast, but I never knew for sure. I'm sure that's the reason why I talked so much about my life. I knew he could care less if Rellia and I met the Weyrling Master's weyrmate and talked about the Lord Holder of Katz Field. Nor did I feel the guilty need for him to know every time I broke a rule. I just wanted him to give me something in return. He never did.

I somehow had the delusion that after I graduated I would be able to see more of him. While our visits were not against any of the numerous rules of behavior for weyrlings and candidates, they violated several "social" rules. I don't really know what my classmates thought about me, they never really said anything negative to my face (probably out of fear of Judeth's unusually short temper and affinity for "accidentally" stepping on people's feet). They were less conservative with their opinions on Rodya. He was sleazy. He was creepy, and weird looking to boot. After coming home from one of my infrequent trips to the candidate barracks I overheard a weyrling bluerider laugh, "Faranth! Who could forget Rodya. Of course I remember. Not seeing him is one of the primary reasons I'm glad I have Meth."

A few eyes turned and focused on me. Somebody asked if I remembered Rodya. My answer was very non-committed, "That candidate who looked like a crawler? Yeah?"

They laughed and didn't say anything. I knew that they knew. I hated myself. Judeth inquired if I wished to be the catalyst of some foot-injuries. I wish that I had enough guts to say yes, and cause an angry young queen to force her way into the weyrling commons, bristling with indignation. Faranth, I wish I had it in me to tell them to shut their fat klah-suckers and leave Rodya be. But I didn't. I just went to my section of the barracks and sat with Judeth. As empty as Rodya made me feel. As always, Judeth made everything feel better.

Graduation was an elaborate affair. We were all dressed in the most expensive frocks we could afford, and our dragons were groomed and gilded until they glistened. Like most large gatherings at Igen, it happened at dusk. My class stood assembled and proud as one-by-one the Weyrwoman announced our names and revealed to the Weyr what wing had recruited us. For first time since her birth, Judeth wasn't the star. For the most part the riders and weyrfolk were more interesting in seeing who their new wingmates would be. My name was announced after, "G'lyn of blue Meth to Secondstar Wing." There were no embellishments, just a simple, "Hamali of gold Judeth to Queen's Wing." The crowd politely clapped, I walked up to the Weyrwoman and shook her hand. As I walked my assigned table I took a quick glance over the gathered people.

I saw Rodya in the crowd. I was too far away to judge exactly what his facial expression was, but I knew. It was the smile that I sometimes still see in my sleep, rueful, not broken, but slightly cracked. I flashed my own variation of this as we had done once before. How did we get ourselves in this bloody mess? Judeth was too busy preening and flashing her metallic hide to notice, and question the thoughts that bubbled up into my head.

It's a well kept Weyr secret that the graduation feasts, although on a smaller scale were much grander than the hatching feasts. Everybody in the region flocked to the Weyr to bare witness to the hatchling dragonets. There were very few people, other than the Weyrfolk, who attended the graduation feasts. Because of the more selective guest-list the kitchen staff could afford to be more lavish. I got to sit next to the Weyrwoman and Jissy. I was no longer with Relia at the Weyrling's table. I could see the entire dining cavern from where I sat, so it was inevitable that I saw Rodya.

-//You keep looking at him like a proddy green//-

I'm in love with him.

-//Silly girl. Do something about it.//-

I did.

I turned and told Jissy that I had a terrible headache, that I just, "Needed to lay down for a while." I then commanded Judeth to tell Rodya to meet me. That he would know where. She protested at first -//I want nothing to do with your sordid little affair//- but she gave up in the end. As much as she denies it, Judeth adores scandal and gossip. She had been following our pseudorelationship since her birth -//Why is this male taking up so much of your brain?//- I could tell she was as eager for something to move forwards as I was. I relished the fact that for a few moments Rodya would be able to feel her presence in his head. It was almost like being intimate with one another. Mental Rape.

-//Rodya. No. Don't jump up like that you look like an idiot. Oi stupid, this is Judeth, yes. Sit. Sit. Good. Now, my rider for one reason or another wants you to meet her somewhere. You're supposed to know what she's talking about. Don't look at me like that. I'm not going to eat you//-

From where I was I saw Rodya slowly stood up and skunk his way out of the hall. I waited a few moments and excused myself once again. I made my way down into the lower caverns and found myself entangled with a few bottles of illicit wine and a dark boy in some forgotten room. It was unlike, and just like, the handful of times we snuck away after the hatching feasts of our younger years. We first sat in the dark, our bodies filled with the heaviness of joysorrow, and drank silently with nothing but our shoulders pressed together. Then arms began to snake around wrists and waists. Both of us were too numb to understand the enormity of the situation. Not just of that night, but of our lives. For a few moments at least we could feel the time press all around us, running away from us. We could feel everything that we had left behind, and the vast dark shapes that loomed in our future. More however, than anything else, we could feel each other. For a few hours at least, with fuzzy mouths and blurry hands, we were human together. He breathed just like every other boy. I reeked of body and alcohol, just like every other drunk girl.

He wasn't some phantom creature that fed on dreams and hid in the dark. I wasn't some bejeweled legend atop a shimmering dragon destined to save everybody else. He was a boy. I was a girl. In that forgotten corner of the Weyr we lay entwined together and put the stars back where they belonged.

I awoke the next morning alone.

Judeth blithely make her perpetual presence known as I trudged out of the bowels of the lower cavern -//No need to lie about having a headache today//-

Thanks for your support my beloved queen.

-//Most welcome//-

Rodya and I had to pretend that nothing had happened. It was painful. While the details of the night were lost to stupor, I could remember enough of it to long for more. Part of me wished earnestly that we had been caught, or at the very least somebody had noticed, and questioned our corresponding absences. Nothing. I knew that a deep part of me wanted to stand up (I sat with the other queenriders, they would be able to hear and see me perfectly) during the midday meal and announce that I, goldrider Hamali, and he (I would point his form out from the other candidates) Rodya had an illegitimate intimate relationship. I then would proceed to ask Rodya if he considered us Weyrmated, or what in the name of the Red Star he wanted from me.

But I didn't. I merely mired myself in my own mind. Judeth sat back and enjoyed the psychological spectacle from the best seat in the house. She was my voice of reason -//He's a horrible person. You know that I and I know that//- or -//You're too busy and he's too busy. Why don't you look elsewhere? Or do your job rather than chase after a male. That's backwards you know//-

All of it was true. I knew that Rodya wasn't the sort of person who could really stand to be in a "typical" relationship. Either that or I didn't know enough about him to even consider him a potential partner. I was busier than I had ever been (the menial chores of weyrlinghood were replaced with actual jobs that couldn't be skipped or done half-heartedly) and it seemed that someone had placed our schedules possessed no overlap of leisure time. I only saw him rarely: a glimpse of unkempt brown hair over breakfast. I barely had time enough to breathe before half of a turn passed.

I don't know how the subject came up. Jissy and I were talking as we did one day in the late evening. I think we were comparing clutch records between the senior queen Kith, and Jissy's Armenth. Thread was due to fall sometime soon. I don't remember exactly what the time frame was, but we were looking at the reproductive trends of the Weyr. Armenth was about six turns older than Judeth. Rellia's Sedrith was a little bit less than a turn younger than Judeth. The sudden flux of queens was biological proof that the Weyr was preparing itself for the thread. The clutches had increased in size dramatically in the past decade, overall population had doubled. We were musing over these numbers, and discussing what the odds were of Kith mothering another queen before she stopped rising for good. I think I said, "Another queen: we'd need quite the hatching feast to honor her birth."

Jissy just snorted into a dusty hide, "Although I'd reckon you'd enjoy another graduation feast more."

My heart skipped a beat, "What do you mean by that?"

"Hamali…c'mon, you know how Armenth and Judeth talk."

I think if I possessed the ability to do so, I would've vanished /between/ and never returned. Unfortunately the best I could manage was a, "Yeah. They can be real vicious about it too."

"Nah, it's all in good fun. Seriously though. It's not that big of a deal."

I tried to play stupid, "What isn't?"

"Drunken midnight strolls with certain male candidates. What's his name."

"It was nothing."

Jissy smiled and wagged her finger at me, "Everybody wants a fairy tale ending. Tell me his name at least. I honestly couldn't care less. I'm not hidebound like that. Besides, I'm no better."

"You breaking the hearts of those poor burly bronzers is a much different situation than my infatuation with a candidate."

"Armenth tells me that Judeth tells me you're absolutely in love with this boy."

Judeth. I think I'm going to take you for a short stroll /between/. To this she serenely answered -//You never told me not to say anything//- I could envision her perfectly sitting on the ledge of our Weyr, sunning herself languidly sharing a few brief words with Jissy's queen about the state of my mind. I couldn't help but feel betrayed by her, although I know my feelings were completely ridiculous. Jissy could sense that I was extremely upset, she put down the hide she was reading and held my hands tightly, "Hamali. Everybody wants a F'lar and Lessa story. I know that things like that don't happen. Relationships are complicated, convoluted and frequently involve many more than two people, but seriously. Do you expect anything to happen if you can't even tell your best friend his name?"

I had never really considered her my best friend. I had considered her a close friend, probably one of my closest. The weight of her hands in mine was almost too much. The whole situation was too much. I had been waiting to blurt my feelings out to somebody who wasn't Judeth for turns. I had to say something, I forced, "No" our of my throat, and struggled to continue, "It's stupid that it scares me so much. Rodya. His name is Rodya."

She let go of my hands and picked up the hide. Her smile was tightly pressed, and looked triumphant. She chose her words carefully, "I believe the Dragonhealer took him up as an apprentice a few sevendays ago. I can't say for sure. Sort of spidery looking boy who won't look you in the eyes?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"If I remember correctly Jennah was telling me how the boy was a prodigy, that he'd never seen talent like his before, but by the first egg, his attitude was implacably odd."

Flatly I responded, "Yeah. That's him."

Jissy kept my secret. She encouraged me to try to pursue it (wear that low-cut dress and say hello! Why not?) but she never got me to do anything beyond wave at him from across the dining cavern. I sort of wished that she was a gossip like Rellia, or that Judeth or Armenth talked to other dragons with the same intimacy as they did with each other. It was just like before, only now I had one other person to remind me that I wasn't involved with the man I loved.

And the fact that he was suddenly a crafter. I wasn't sure exactly what to make of this. While subliminally I had completely dismissed the possibility of him ever impressing, I couldn't imagine him being anything other than a candidate. Could he be a candidate and an apprentice? He had gone through the rigors of candidatehood enough ties to become a Candidate Master himself. Perhaps he had just been excused from attending the lessons, and was just studying a craft in his spare time, bidding the time until his bronze hatched. I stewed and brewed over this more than I probably should've. Jissy and I had to spend nearly half a sevenday in Southern Boll when Kith got close to rising. I was much more focused on what Rodya could possibly be doing with his life than the beautiful beaches and equally beautiful men of the region. In Judeth's words -//Obsessed. It's pretty pathetic//-

I know that.

Fortunately I was able to confront him on the matter before my head blew up. My schedule, and for the most part the rest of the Weyr's, was turned around due to the Weyrleadership Flight. I was walking somewhere, I don't remember exactly where, and our paths crossed. I had to do a double-take to realize it was him, "Rodya?"

"Hello stranger. What's up?"

"The sand and the sun. Jissy and I've been down in Southern Boll for the past few days. Rellia went to visit her family in some hold on the other side of the desert. To keep our queens away from Kith. They'll kill each other you know if they rise to close to one another."

He merely smiled, "I know. How's Judeth?"

"Well. Have you seen her lately?"

He shrugged, "She's a 40-something-foot long carnivore that lives in the same Weyr I do, so I'd say yeah."

"She's 41.1 feet: about a foot and a half smaller than Armenth, about half a foot larger than Kith. Sedrith's still not fully grown, but is probably going to be…"

I cut myself off, and laughed weakly. This was the first conversation we had in a long time, and it was quickly turning into me ranting about something he obviously didn't care about. There were so many more important things that I needed to tell him about. He noticed that I had stopped talked and flashed me one of his smiles, "I've missed you Hamali."

I was helpless, and said lamely, "Yeah, me too. We haven't really spoken much since I've graduated."

"Hmmm, yeah."

"So…"

"So?"

"I've heard that you're studying dragonhealing."

I said this far too quickly and nervously. He laughed, "It's not that big of a deal. I figured that I might as well start on a backup plan."

"You're still…?"

"Yeah, I'm still eligible to stand for another turn."

I'm sort of ashamed to admit that I was relieved to hear this. We stood in the corridor and looked unabashedly at one another. He shook his head, "Sorry. It's just strange to see you with those," he made a vague gesture towards my shoulder knots. I self-consciously ran my hand over them.

"Why?"

"Judeth is going to rise pretty soon."

This caught me by surprise. My gut reaction was to explain that Kith had just risen, it was highly unlikely that Judeth would rise when the senior queen had a clutch on the sands. I also resisted the urge to say that Armenth would probably rise before Judeth. Armenth's rising was as predictable as clockwork. Instead I poked him lightly in the chest, "You know what that means."

"No. I don't"

I wanted to say that he would need to wait until Judeth rose, and impress to one of her sons. An old flame of scandal flickered within me and I briefly recalled a time when I wanted to impress to a blue, and he to a green. I nearly blurted out that he needed to impress one of Judeth's bronze sons, and we could have a relationship that was purely incestuous (not that the dragons gave a clump of wher-dung about things like that). Fortunately before I could say anything I realized that by the time Judeth's first clutch hardened and hatched, Rodya would be too old to stand. I bit my lip sharply and said, "Sorry, I forgot what I was going to say."

"Judeth's memory rubbing off on you?"

I nodded and asked if he wanted to grab a bite to eat.

He was terribly sorry, but needed to go attend to his lessons. He'd see me later for sure. He was behind most of the others, starting so late. They normally didn't take up apprentices his age, but given his experience with dragons and the circumstances…I told him I understood and nodded complacently as I watched him walk down the hall.

We talked a few times after that. Really talked. I had him sit in my Weyr and old days of old friendship would be relieved. He never so much as held my hand. He never gave me any hints that I was anything more or less than a trusted shoulder to lean on, somebody to discuss theories, but not life experiences with. I suppose I read too much into his actions, "You're going to impress that bronze right?"

-//Delusional, but that's not a big change//-

I've heard those words before Judeth.

-//I found them in your head//-

"Hamali. I sometimes think."

"Thing what?"

"I think that my bronze went /between/ on some hatching ground in Fort during the second pass."

"Don't be silly, he's on the sands right now, hardening and growing."

He wasn't.

Rodya stood a few sevendays later. One by one the dragonets emerged from their shells and at the end of it all, Rodya had nothing but a field of ruined eggshells and a large assortment of other disappointed candidates. I tried to find him afterwards, to hold him and comfort him and tell him that nothing had changed. That I loved him as much then, completely sober and completely honestly, as I did the night I graduated. It didn't matter to me what he was, or what was attached to his head. I couldn't find him. I can't help but feel as if I should've tried harder. I could've had Judeth pinpoint his location for me, I could've actively sought him out and done the things I'd so desperately wanted to do. But I didn't. I sat with Jissy, ate meatrolls and flirted shamelessly with one of the Lord Holder's older sons.


	3. Chapter 3

I convinced myself that I would never see him again. He was support staff. I was not. It couldn't be any clearer. I was in despair, but I tried not to think about it too much, and as the sevendays passed the sharp ache in my throat to dissipate. I buried myself in work. Crunching numbers and figuring out how to make meager tithes match the requests for supplies from the headwoman proved surprisingly cathartic. Day by day I carefully built up walls of work and duty. I thought I had rid Rodya of my bones forever, but that was merely a carefully maintained delusion. Then he sauntered back into my life.

"Thought you'd be rid of me for good eh?"

He stood in the threshold of my weyr and looked very pleased with himself. He had ruined months of careful separation with a few casual words and a self-assured smile. I was floored by his sudden apparition, but I managed to hide my surprise with an airy, "Yes I had. It's been too long."

"Aye. I've been busy like you wouldn't believe."

"Me too. I'm sorry I haven't really tried contacting you since…" I looked up quickly, he was looking at me evenly. I could tell he was deep in thought, but I couldn't begin to guess what was going through his head. I was worried that I had just pulled open a fresh scab, I quickly apologized, "I'm sorry."

He mildly responded, "Of what?"

"Of bringing it up."

He shrugged, "No worries. It didn't happen, no use fretting about it," he gauged my reaction and smiled, "you seemed to be more worked up over it than I was."

I shook my head slowly then quickly changed the subject, "Nah. How's the healercraft?"

"Dragonhealercraft. That's a beast of a word. Well. Very well, I've met a lot of really interesting people."

I can't say I wasn't jealous. The tables of our conversation were turned for the first time since I had met him. He described at length some of the various things he had learned. The little quirks of the people he met (all of whom he talked very highly of) and every little thing that he had been doing over the past few months. It hurt to see him so happy for a variety of reasons. He had seemed so lost and lonely before, and I recognized that a dead quality had been lifted from his voice. Enthusiasm. I had never seen him act like he actually cared about anything before. It was like he had sudden begun to feel the world around him. I had been miserable. I systematically cut myself away from tastetouchfeelsmellove. I had missed him more than I could put to words. He didn't need me. I know that it shouldn't have, but it bothered me to know he was capable of being happy without me. At the time though, watching him talk as if he was alive for the first time was something beautiful.

He concluded his quasi-monologue simply, "Things are much better now."

I nodded, but I didn't believe him. He was right though. The uncertainty of our future had been lifted. We realized that we were two separate circles drawn carelessly on a scrap of hide, and that although the bulk of our experiences were separate, our boundaries still overlapped. I told him this once. He smiled and said that he was a square, not a circle. We were both busy, but our relationship became more platonically concrete. We had set days that we would take lunch together. All queenriders were supposed to have training in the healercraft. I made a point to take lessons from Rodya.

We became fitter, happier, and more productive. I knew that Rodya was the only boy (man?) that I would ever be able to love. I also knew that he was completely enamored with me. Unfortunately with this came the realization that he would have to catalyze our declarations of mutual adoration. A wide variety of things lead me to these assumptions, most of them just hopeful delusions, but I accepted them as truth. I accepted that things were probably not going to change. Things became better. Rodya never told me he loved me, but he gave me enough fuel to be hopeful on.

We never directly discussed relationships. I think the closest conversation we ever had on the subject occurred over lunch one day. I knew exactly why I was so ornery, and they (they being the various bronzeriders of the Weyr) were so amorous, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. Jissy and Armenth had left the Weyr with the other queenriders earlier that sevenday. Judeth was going to rise soon. Everybody knew it. It was humiliating. What was more humiliating was the way that various men of the Weyr ogled at me as I passed. I felt like a side of meat, "Rodya I swear. They won't leave me alone!"

"You're an attractive girl. A goldrider to boot."

"But I'm not interested in any of them…I'm not."

"Interested in them, or attractive? Trust me. They talk about you."

"They?"

"The other miserable single boys down in the infirmary. The straight ones at least. I wouldn't worry about it."

"I'm not worried about it. It's just annoying."

"Eh, try to ignore it. That's what I do. They usually get the hint pretty soon."

I raised my eyebrow incredulously, "They? You wouldn't understand."

"The idiot women in the lower caverns," he paused and looked me over, "Is that jealousy I see? I joke I joke, don't hit me. Seriously though. They think that because I don't have a partner that I'm desperately searching out the Weyr for my true love. I'm not though."

Between bites of tuber I shrugged, "A relationship would be nice."

I should've added, 'a relationship that didn't have its foundations in dragon-induced rape' but I was too busy stewing on the fact that he had other girls after him to do anything but chew angrily. He said lightly, "Sex is too easy in the Weyr. I don't want it."

"Sex and love are completely different things."

"Love is merely a dirty word that rhymes with goldflight."

"You're just bitter."

"That too."

-//He's smarter than he looks//-

You're just bitter too.

-//That too//-

You were supposed to be on my side.

Judeth rose in all of the bloody glory of estrus a few sevendays after that. Her maiden flight was carnal and terrifying. Human vocabulary cannot even begin to accurately describe the experience. Goldflight is WANT!HUNGER!ANGER!LUST!LOVE!HURT!SEX!NEED! It is tearing through the sky with no perception beyond the present. You are nobody. You are motion, flesh and sky. Then you become I again, and everything crosses over. The human brain is not equipped to handle the sensations of dragonflight. I can only recall bright flashes of images drawn from confusing angles, hot desire mixed with tangles of wings and limbs.

Their names were M'son and Keyvith. Keyvith was a spectacular beast. He was nearly as long as long as Kith (the smallest queen in the Weyr) but unlike most of the larger bronzes he was lean and well proportioned. According to Judeth he was -//As cunning as a male can feasibly be//- The same couldn't be said about M'son. While he wasn't explicitly unintelligent, he just lacked any sort of spark. He was the sort of man who laughed at bawdy jokes and expected everything to be done for him. His personality was not enhanced by good looks. He was a thickset man with a big belly and bad teeth. I made it very clear that he was unwelcome in my bed in circumstances outside frantic dragonlust coupling.

Jissy was mortified for me, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It usually isn't that bad."

I told her that I didn't really care. It really wasn't as bad as it seemed. I was just glad that I wasn't Weyrwoman. Having M'son as a Weyrleader (and so close to threadfall) would imply doom to everybody in the Weyr. She laughed and told me that next time I would have to do better.

Rodya thought it was hilarious, "I guess I don't have to worry."

"About what?"

"About getting a girl. If M'son can get inside the skirt of a reasonably attractive woman anybody can."

"You're not afraid that he's going to steal my heart?"

"Nah. Besides, once he gets to know Judeth he'll run as far away as possible. "

I told him that I lost my heart while visiting High Reaches. It was frozen somewhere in the snowy west. He agreed whole-heartedly and asked me if I had any intentions of sleeping with a wher. I didn't mind his teasing, I was just glad that he was still talking to me.

Judeth looked at it in a more pragmatic light. -//You're not a greenrider. I am not a green. Flights are not supposed to be fun//-

M'son's a real paradigm of masculine beauty

-//You're not pregnant. I am. Plus, your spawn isn't important. Mine is.//-

The flight proved fairly successful in that department. No new queens joined the Weyr, but 34 dragonets staggered off of the sands and into the minds of new riders. There would be other flights.

I'm going to summarize the next few turns in a fairly small space. I'm not trivializing the things that happened in-between, I'm merely marking them as irrelevant to the epic love ballad that wasn't. This isn't a story about politics, or Weyr management. It's about Rodya and myself. Although it is probably to late to convince you otherwise, I was not an obsessed maniac. I thought about Rodya more often than I probably should've, but I didn't base my life around him. We lived in two separate spheres of existence that just happened to overlap occasionally for fond dinnertime chats and longing glances.

Thanks to the reproductive efforts of Igen's four queens, the Weyr was nearly at full capacity when thread began to fall. Our Weyrleader was competent and the wings well trained. We fought thread too, although our roles were purely symbolic. There was never any real danger, and everybody knew this. Rodya played a more active role in threadfall than I did. He had progressed up to the rank of journeyman, and was slowly working through the subtle, unnamed social ranks of his craft. He and the other dragonhealers would stitch broken bodies back together. Every once in a while Judeth would be asked to calm an injured panicked dragon.

-//Stop flapping like that you dimglow, your rider is fine.//-

-//between/ like that and you'll stay /between//-

Spectacular bedside manor.

-//I'm protecting them from themselves, not comforting them//-

The changes were small. Neither one of us had the time to really back up an appreciate their collective affect. There was nothing unsettling about seeing Rodya as a journeyman crafter. I no longer felt awkward sitting on the Weyr counsel. The senior queen Kith failed to rise, and Jissy became Weyrwoman, I became the Weyrwoman's second. However years of conditioning had taught me that I would someday take up a position of real power. I didn't feel its affect. Likewise, Rodya was busy slowly working through the unspoken social ranks of his craft. He was brilliant. As the turns passed, and he gained practical experience. He was no longer merely a dragonhealer. He was second in command to the Weyr's dragonhealer. The turns passed, everything changed, but the only change we were actively aware of was the increase in tithes and clutches.

Our partners came and went. I was never out of love with Rodya, I merely accepted the fact that he was unreachable. While I could feel the promising wisps of a beautiful pairing every time I spoke to him, I had learned over the turns that these wisps would never materialize. It hurt me more than I could say, but broken hearts are the sort of things that one just has to get over. I didn't know why I loved him so much, and I didn't know why he didn't love me.

I picked up various props throughout the turns to occupy my time. Some of my relationships were born out of dragonlust, most of them were not. Likewise, Rodya had his share of partners. I didn't mind exactly, but I was never comfortable with the idea. We made a point to talk every few days over a cup of khal. Rodya and I found great pleasure in systematically picking out the flaws of our partners and sharing them with one another.

I had B'rynn who was completely out of his mind. He had Wotty who was dumb as a stick.

Then B'rynn was replaced by S'phan who epitomized all ngative connotations of the word "bronzer" and Wotty found herself a more attentive partner.

Wotty's space in Rodya's arms was replaced by Pendra (who he swore was crazier than B'rynn).

I got bored of S'phan and found P'leer when Judeth was caught by his Vivith.

Rodya stopped talking to Pendra for some reason, and I fell in love, or at least something like it. I never really was very close, in the emotional sense to any of my partners, but I think P'leer was the closest that if ever got. He wasn't like the other bronzers. Jissy called him a woman on more than one occasion, but he treated me well and I seemed happy enough, so she had few serious complaints with him. Rodya never really liked to talk about him, so I avoided the subject.

My life had reached a period of unusual stability. I crawled into bed already warmed by another body. When I was lonely I had somebody who would be there no matter what. Rodya was there too. I was no longer afraid of him vanished from my life. He wasn't as important as he was before. P'leer took up the majority of my free social time. It is hard for me to describe my relationship with P'leer with my feelings for Rodya superimposed upon it. I couldn't give up on Rodya entirely. I had invested so many turns of energy into phantasms of relationships. To throw it all away and devote my heart solely to another would be to admit my own stupidity. I just tried not to think about it too much, and for the most part everything worked out. I could easily see the course for the rest of my life, and I liked what I saw.

And then Jissy had to ruin all of my plans. Her Armenth was growing close to rising, and I was with Judeth enjoying the cool summers of High Reaches Weyr when it happened. We said our goodbyes, "Best of luck with the flight, hope you bag somebody good."

I fully expected to see her again before the sevenday was over, but I didn't. She died. She died giving birth to a child far too small to ever live before Armenth could rise. The healers didn't really know what went wrong. Those things just happen sometime. It was early in the morning, and Judeth broke into my head -//Armenth is gone//-

And I knew that Jissy was over. It was as simple as that. If I had set out to tell a story about sisterhood, and trust, this would be a story about Jissy. She was my partner in crime, and the most loyal friend that I ever had. However, this is a story about the most pathetic sort of desperation. The devastation her death caused is far less important to this story than its implications. Judeth would rise a few sevendays later. She was the oldest fertile queen. I was Weyrwoman.

I was too numb at the time from the loss of my friend to grasp this at first, but as the pain dulled and scarred over I was able to grasp my rank. Goldriders are separate from the rest of the Weyr. The Weyrwoman is separate from the rest of the goldriders. I was the most important person in the Weyr, arguably the most important person in the entire Igen region. I chose Rellia as my second. I was always closer to Jissy than I was to Rellia. At first I hated her for not being Jissy, but I got over it. I had a Weyr to run.

My job was not made any easier by P'leer's newfound rank. There will never be any tapestries of the leadership of Weyrleader P'leer. Rodya thought that I was the only reason Igen wasn't in ruins. I thought he gave me too much credit.

I'm pretty sure that P'leer thought I was having some sort of affair with Rodya. They didn't like each other to begin with. P'leer was always sort of jealous and insecure. I think he could sense that he needed me more than I could ever need him. Rodya also had something of a reputation with the lower caverns girls. He wasn't the sort of person you wanted your Weyrmate to be spending long periods of time with. I did though. Nothing truly scandalous ever happened. We would spend long hours talking. P'leer would ask me where I was. I would tell him the truth. I could tell that he didn't believe me, but he never said anything. He didn't like confrontation. I wished that there was something memorable about my rein as Weyrwoman. I told this to Rodya once, "I wish I was special."

"You run Igen Weyr."

"So have generations of other goldriders, anyway, I'm not talking about rank."

"Oh?"

He looked at me expectantly with dark eyes, I struggled, "I don't know. I guess I want people to remember me."

He shrugged, "I don't believe that I could ever forget about you."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Don't be a dimglow."

"You're special."

"Not particularly."

"You're the Weyrhealer."

"So have hundreds of other crafters. I'm curious now though, why do you think I'm special?"

"You're only 29. I don't know, there is something about you that has always fascinated me."

I couldn't read his expression, but in hindsight he looked rather sad. After some length he said, "You flatter me."

I almost did it. I almost threw my arms around him and told him that I had loved him for far too long without any return. I didn't though. I merely considered what effect my feelings for Rodya would have on P'leer and sighed, "I'm a terrible person."

"And that makes you a less interesting person?" I said nothing, he continued, "You're not bad, it's true. I'm the wicked one."

He cast me a cheesy wink and a smile filled with yellowing teeth. My heart was full, and like thousands of times before I wished that he wasn't joking.

-//That is so lame//-

I'm not asking your opinion.

-//What are you doing?//-

I'm trying to figure out who I am.

-//It's a bit late for that.//-

Judeth was right. The turns were passing through our joined mind faster than we could comprehend. The end of the pass was in sight. She had known who she was from the moment she was born. She had never suffered an existential crisis, or the twirking heart-throb of unrequited love. I suppose that her constant advice, untainted with sympathy, kept me sane. -//Rodya's not your Weyrmate, he had no obligation to be monogamous//-

I know

-//Perhaps I should tell Vivith's that you're in love with the Weyrhealer//-

The Weyr's dragonhealer.

I swear Judeth snickered. I told her that I was in love with her. She smugly responded -//I know that already//-

Don't leave me please.

-//I'm not taking my final trip /between/ solo//-

Her next flight was one of the longest flights the Weyr had ever seen. Judeth might've lacked the sheer speed of some of the younger queens, but years of experience gave her plenty of tricks to foil her suitors with. Vivith and P'leer didn't stand a chance. She was caught by a knobby bronze named Akyth. There is a stage in every dragons growth, particularly in the larger males, where they reach adult stage, but don't quiet have adult musculature. As a result they spend a few months looking knobby and stretched out. Akyth, at 12 turns, was more than fully grown, but he never exactly lost his adolenct proportions. If Rodya was a dragon, I think he would look something like Akyth.

Akyth's rider was a man named O'len. During the morning after we congratulated each other heartily and made it perfectly clear that our relationship was purely business. I was elated to have a Weyrleader that demonstrated inklings of competence. Later that afternoon and told P'leer that I needed some space. He asked me what I meant, and I told him he bothered me, "I think it's important that I don't have a weyrmate at this stage of the game."

He begged for me to reconsider, and told me that he would give me all the time I wanted to change my mind. I merely gave him a cold smile and shook my head, "I don't think so. Besides, I can't look at you the same way now that I've slept with another man."

-//I knew I chose you for a good reason//-

She progressed through pregnancy beautifully. The bets made on the clutch were flattering, I had to remind more than one individual that Judeth was not Faranth. The excitement was tangible when she began to nose around the hatching sands. As the dragonhealer and the Weyrwoman, Rodya and I has special seats down near the sands. O'len was with us too, but I didn't really notice him. My attention was divided sharply between the thin man at my left, and the beautiful mother in front of me.

-//Beautiful my vent. I look like an off-color wher//-

That's how you're suppose to look.

-//When you're giving birth I'm going to make sure the entire Weyr can come and watch you. These fardling eggs press against me terribly//-

The day wore on without incident. Judeth would stalk around the hatching cavern as angrily as her rotund body would permit, searching for appropriate places to squat and deposit an egg. Slowly brightly colored spheres began to populate the hatching sands. Then the eggs stopped coming. She would square herself, and struggle for a few moments, but nothing came forth. O'len asked hesitantly, "I can only count twenty eggs, she can't be done."

Rodya answered before I could, "No. She's still exhibiting nesting behavior. It's not unheard of for a queen to take several days to lay a large clutch. We need to keep an eye out for egg binding."

He didn't sound worried. I wasn't concerned myself. She wasn't distressed or more uncomfortable than the situation warranted. I asked her if she was okay

-//I'm fine//-

The next hours were filled with vague apprehension. Nothing was happening. The weyrfolk, bored, and anxious with the slow progression of the clutching moved sluggishly in and out of the cavern. O'len excused himself and returned with meatrolls and water for Rodya and I, "Any changes."

I shook my head. Rodya commented, "If there is no change in a few hours I'm going to see if I can examine her."

"Do you think…?"

He shrugged, "It's too early to tell."

Goldriders are instructed extensively in the mechanics of clutching. The vast majority of our lessons consist of, "leave it to your dragon, she knows instinctively what to do" but egg binding made an interesting side note. Sometimes, for a myriad of reasons, a queen would be unable to pass an egg. It had only happened a handful of times in Igen's history, but was almost inevitably fatal. I knew that it was imperative that I remain calm for Judeth's sake.

The hours passed by. The only change was in Judeth's coloring, she was becoming slowly, but surely duller. Her movements were becoming more lethargic. Rodya turned to me, "How is she?"

Judeth, is everything okay?

-//They're pressing against my insides//-

"She's complaining about the eggs pressing inside of her."

Rodya nodded slightly, "I'm going to go get a few of my apprentices. Go down onto the sands and get her ready, Weyrleader?"

"Yes?"

"Clear out the hatching cavern. I don't want her to get any more agitated."

We moved quickly. The hours of waiting had made us over-eager to act. Judeth turned accusingly at me as I ascended into the sands, -//Just because you want him to prod around your nether regions doesn't mean that I want him to//- It worried me that her tone wasn't filled with self-assured smugness.

It took me a while to convince her to let Rodya and his apprentices near her. He told me that it was a good sign that she had enough energy to protest. I was exhausted, and glad that at least one of us did. I stayed by her head and made a big fuss stroking her eye ridges and feeding her pieces of meat the size of my forearms. -//You're trying to get me fat//-

Rodya tells me that you need to keep up your energy.

-//I should tell Rodya that his hands are colder than /between///-

I laughed despite myself. Rodya's hands were always cold. Judeth flicked her wings indignantly. I knew that she had no intention of lashing out at anybody on the sands, but she had to do something to remind them that she was still in charge. Rodya emerged some time later from behind her hind leg. I remember wishing more than ever before that his face was easier to read, "She's definitely egg bound."

I couldn't tell from his tone what the prognosis was. Judeth caught my concern, but was too busy menacing an apprentice with a show of her claws to respond. I had seen him work a hundred times before, but it was unsettling knowing that his patient was my dragon. My Judeth. He circled around her slowly and conference briefly with his apprentices. I wanted to yell at him, and tell him that I was more important than they were. He emerged from his talk looking concerned. I studied the lines in his face and wished that there was something I could do to ease them. I knew that Judeth was in trouble, I could tell by her constant complaints of discomfort, but it bothered me deeply to force Rodya into telling me the depth of her problems. I had often wondered if he was capable of feeling inconvenient things like emotion. I had known him for nearly a decade. I had studied him intensely for nearly a decade. This was the first time I ever noticed concern mar his features. He walked slowly to my side, "This is going to take some time to explain."

He was awaiting some reaction on my part. I think that he expected me to break down and cry like I used to when I was younger and overcome with emotion. I merely cocked my eyebrow and waited for the explanation. He put his hands on my shoulders, both of them. I was quivering on the inside, "Go on."

"We can see the egg, it doesn't look overtly deformed. Egg binding sometimes results from deformities of the egg shells. It looks like it is unusually large, which could be the cause of her condition."

"I don't understand what the complicated part is."

"Egg binding is treated in two ways, we've tried the first one already."

"Waiting?"

I was waiting for him to let me go, instead he merely gripped me tighter, "Indeed. She's still in good condition, so we still have some time, but she can't continue to strain like this forever. You see how she's sort of limping, that's a sign that the blood vessels in her rear legs are being cut off. It's not good. And well, in firelizards, it is possible to puncture the troublesome egg…make it smaller and easier to pass, but nobody has ever done this with a creature Judeth's size, and…it'll kill the embryo, and unless it is done perfectly, the egg will shatter. Those shards will spell laceration in the oviduct. Death. I…"

He pulled me closer. I made a half-hearted effort to subtly push him away. He held me more tightly. He was giving me a hug. He was holding me close to him, perfectly sober and in the presence of other people. I was reminded of how boney his shoulders were when I buried my face in them. I had forgotten how he always smelled like wood smoke. I had forgotten so much about him. We held each other tightly pressed against one another looking for some shred of comfort. I was crying. The worst part was the knowledge that the night was only going to get more difficult.

There was nothing we could do but wait. The dragonhealers decided that there was still a good chance of Judeth passing the egg before her condition became critical. Rodya and I sat up all night. We only exchanged cursory words related to Judeth's health. I had noticed a slight change in her complaints. She was usually fairly articulate, but her complains were becoming shorter. I told Rodya this. He responded clandestinely, "The sun will be coming up soon."

Then he put his arm around me. He did this with an urgency that made the gesture strangely aggressive. I could feel the chorded muscles of his body tense and work. I slowly snaked my own arm around his waist. We didn't speak. It seemed that the only living creatures in the Weyr. Judeth moved restlessly. I clutched at his shirt compulsively. I didn't want to break the silence, but the significance of this act staggered against my imagination. He spoke stiffly through his throat, "Hamali?"

"What Rodya?"

"There is a very good chance that we are going to lose her."

"I know."

We clutched at each other more tightly, "I'm going to try it as soon as there is enough light, but I want you to know a few things first."

I found my face in his neck. I didn't care about anything anymore, I just wanted the animal comfort of being pressed tightly against another warm body. I could feel the vibrations of his voice run through his chest. He ran his hands through my hair. I knew what he was worried about. He was probably going to be the hand that was going to take my Judeth away from me. He would try to drain the egg out of her body, and probably end up killing her. It was our only choice. Not acting would kill her more slowly. I whispered, "I'm not going to blame you."

I could feel him move slightly. I can only assume that he nodded, "Hamali, remember how it used to be. When we were candidates?"

"mmmhn."

"Remember how bright and beautiful everything seemed. We used to have those big plans. It used to feel as if those days would never end, and we had all the time in the world to live. We would sit up and talk all night, about stupid things. We used dream about impossible things. There was so much hope for what we might've been, we never really talked about what we should've. I don't know what did it. I don't know what gave me the hope to wish those impossible things. But now, now everything I hoped for is going away."

I mumbled into his skin, "What are you talking about?"

"There is nobody else in the world that I can hold onto like this. Nobody. Only you, and well. If you leave me now, you'll leave everything that we were behind, and I think I've said enough. There is nothing left for us to do but meet each other beyond /between/. I love you."

Words were lost. I wondered why Rodya looked so sad, and then everything went dark.

I never saw him again.

The events which followed have been recounted to me a thousand times, but I still can't seem to get the details down correctly. Judeth went into some sort of crisis. The shock of this made me black out. The healers couldn't figure out exactly why I had done this, but I was the dehydrated and exhausted partner of a dehydrated and exhausted dragon. Rodya played prodigy. I'm sure that turns from now, his steady hands and steadier head will be mentioned by masters to their apprentices. He recognized through my sudden swooning that something was terribly wrong and went to Judeth's aid. He single-handedly punctured the egg that was trapped inside of her, and stood by as she frantically coaxed it out. He smashed the egg shell as soon as it was out of her body, the internal anatomy of a dragon egg was a valuable lesson. Opportunities to observe the contents of a healthy, newly clutched dragon egg come once a lifetime. The embryo was still alive. The apprentices told me that it was a stubby thing, a little bit bigger than a young canine. It was a bronze. Rodya pointed out the various parts of its body as it quivered and died in its ruined shell. Then he smiled, and held the ruined body tightly in his arms. He said that his name was Arth.

And then they were gone.

Faranth. I don't know what to believe. The entire story is completely ridiculous. All of the witnesses were exhausted and the glows were all dim. There are a thousand more logical explanations for what happened that night. I've never heard a harper sing about a middle-aged man impressing to a dying embryonic bronze. But harpers don't sing about a lot of things. I've never heard a ballad that describes the fuzzy feeling you get flying home after spending a day on the beach, or a song about a goldrider falling in love with the dragonhealer. I don't know if Rodya is still out there. I'm not even entirely sure that he ever really existed. I don't know if he ever found his dragon, or if the story was just fabricated by a few apprentices who were mystified by his declaration of farewell.

I wish that I could give you a concrete ending. I know that a "happier ever after" is too much to ask. I wish that I could tell you that he kissed me goodbye, and told me he was going to another Weyr. Even being able to tell you that he took too much fellis and died in his sleep would be better than having to feed you the ridiculous dung that I was fed. The only thing I know for sure is that every time a man holds me close, and whispers that he loves me, the only response I can fabricate is a cynical, "Well darling. Love is just a dirty word that rhymes with goldflight."

Rodya. I love you.


End file.
